Vet in a Spin

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by James Herriot

organo-pl phases, but the little animal declined steadily It was about

  a month after his death that I was called to the house again. ~

  Skipper was in his basket and when I called to him he slowly raised his

  h.

  His face was pinched and fleshless and the filmed eyes regarded me with

  recognition.

  "Come on, lad," I said encouragingly.

  "Let's see you get out of there."

  Jack Sanders shook his head.

  "It's no good, Mr Herriot. He never leaves basket now and when we

  lift him out he's almost too weak to walk. Another thing . . . he

  makes a mess down here in the kitchen during the night. Th something

  he's never done."

  It was like the tolling of a sad bell. Everything he said pointed to a

  dog in last stages of senility. I tried to pick my words.

  _ _~ -----~- - ---- - -- r-- ~ "I'm sorry, Jack, but it all sounds as

  if the old chap has come to the end of the road. I don't think

  fretting could possibly cause all this."

  He didn't speak for a moment. He looked at his wife then down at the

  forlorn little creature.

  "Well of course this has been in the back of our minds. But w.

  kept hoping he would start to eat. What . . . what do you suggest?"

  I could not bring myself to say the fateful words.

  "It seems to me that we c' stand by and let him suffer. He's just a

  little skeleton and I can't think get ting any pleasure out of his life

  now."

  "I see," he said.

  "And I agree. He lies there all day he has no interest' Vet in a Spin

  anything." He paused and looked at his wife again.

  "I tell you what, Mr Herriot.

  Let us think it over till tomorrow. But you do think there's no

  hope?"

  yes, Jack, I do. Old dogs often go this way at the end. Skipper has

  just cracked up he's finished, I'm afraid."

  He drew a long breath.

  "Right, if you don't hear from me by eight o'clock tomorrow morning,

  please come and put him to sleep."

  I had small hope of the call coming and it didn't. In those early days

  of our marriage Helen worked as a secretary for one of the local

  millers. We often started our day together by descending the long

  flights of stairs from our bed sitter and I would see her out of the

  front door before get ting ready for my round.

  This morning she gave me her usual kiss before going out into the

  street but then she looked at me searchingly.

  "You've been quiet all through breakfast Jim. What's the matter?"

  "It's nothing, really. Just part of the job," I said. But when she

  kept her steady gaze on me I told her quickly about the Sanders.

  She touched my arm.

  "It's such a shame, Jim, but you can't let your sad cases depress you.

  You'd never survive."

  "Aagh, I know that. But I'm a softy, that's my trouble. Sometimes I

  think I should never have been a vet."

  "You're wrong there," she said.

  "I couldn't imagine you as anything else.

  You'll do what you have to do, and you'll do it the right way." She

  kissed me again, turned and ran down the steps.

  It was mid morning before I drew up outside the Sanders' home. I

  opened the car boot and took out the syringe and the bottle of

  concentrated anaesthetic which would give the old dog a peaceful and

  painless end.

  The first thing I saw when I went into the kitchen was a fat little

  white puppy waddling across the floor.

  I looked down in astonishment.

  "What's this . . .?

  Mrs Sanders gave me a strained smile,

  "Jack and I had a talk yesterday. We couldn't bear the idea of not

  having a dog at all, so we went round to Mrs Palmer who bred Jing and

  found she had a litter for sale. It seemed like fate.

  We've called him Jingo, too."

  "What a splendid idea!" I lifted the pup which squirmed in my hand,

  grunted in an obese manner and tried to lick my face. This, I felt,

  would make my unpleasant task easier.

  "I think you've been very sensible."

  I lifted the bottle of anaesthetic unobtrusively from my pocket and

  went over to the basket in the corner. Skipper was still curled in the

  unheeding ball of yesterday and the comforting thought came to me that

  all I was going to do was push him a little further along the journey

  he had already begun.

  I pierced the rubber diaphragm on the bottle with my needle and was

  about to withdraw the barbiturate when I saw that Skipper had raised

  his head. Chin resting on the edge of the basket, he seemed to be

  watching the pup. Wearily his eyes followed the tiny creature as it

  made its way to a dish of milk and began to lap busily. And there was

  something in his intent expression which had not been there for a long

  time.

  I stood very still as the corgi made a couple of attempts then heaved

  himself to a stan ding position. He almost fell out of the basket and

  staggered on shaking legs across the floor. When he came alongside the

  pup he remained there, swaying' for some time, a gaunt caricature of

  his former self, but as I watched ~n disbelief, he reached forward and

  seized the little white ear in his mouth.

  Stoicism is not a characteristic of pups and Jingo the Second yelped

  shrilly as the teeth squeezed. Skipper, undeterred, continued to gnaw

  with rapt concentration.

  !722 Vet in a Spin Vet in a Spin 723 I dropped bottle and syringe back

  in my pocket.

  "Bring him some food," I said Speaker was Seth Pilling, a casual

  labourer and a well known character in : quietly. Darrow by He was

  designated a labourer, but in truth he didn't labour unduly Mrs Sanders

  hurried to the pantry and came back with a few pieces of meat: and his

  burly frame and red meaty face was a common sight around the Labour on

  a saucer. Skipper continued his ear-nibbling for a few moments then

  sniffed exchange where he signed for his unemployment pay.

  the pup unhurriedly from end to end before turning to the saucer. He

  hardly, "Aye, 'e's got no idea. Knaws nowt about dogs." The big man

  tipped about had the strength to chew but he lifted a portion of meat

  and his jaws moves half a pint over his throat in one swallow.

  slowly. "He's not a bad hand wi' cows," another voice broke in "Good

  heavers!" Jack Sanders burst out.

  "That's the first thing he's eaten for' "Aye, maybe, but I'm not

  talkie' about bloody awd cows," Seth retorted days! "witheringly

  "I'm talkie' about dogs: Ye need skill to doctor dogs."

  , His wife seized my arm.

  "What's happened, Mr Herriot? We only got the' A third man spoke

  up.

  "Well, 'e's a vitnery, isn't he?"

  puppy because we couldn't have a house without a dog." "Aye a knew he

  is, but there's all kind o'vitneries and this 'un's a dead loss.

  "Well, it looks to me as though you've got two again." I went over to

  the coo' Ah could tell ye some tales about this feller."

  ~i! and smiled back at the two people watching fascinated as the corgi

  swallower They say an eavesdropper never hears anything good about

  himself, and
I ~: then started determinedly on another piece of meat.

  "Good morning, I'm goinl knew the sensible thing would be to get out of

  there immediately rather than ~now."hear this man vilifying me In a

  crowded bar. But of course I didn't get out. I : stayed, morbidly

  fascinated, listening with every nerve and fibre.

  - About eight months later, Jack Sanders came into the surgery and put

  JinB. "What sort o' tales, Seth?" The company was as interested as I

  was.

  Two on the table. He was growing into a fine animal with the wide

  chest ant "Well," he replied.

  "There's many a time folks 'ave brought dogs to me that `. powerful

  legs of the breed. His good-natured face and whipping tail reminded'

  he's made a mess of."

  me strongly of his predecessor. "The knaws all about dogs, doesn't

  the, Seth?"

  "He's got a bit of eczema between his pads," Jack said, then he bent

  and lifted ~It was perhaps wishful thinking that made me imagine a

  touch of sarcasm in Skipper up. the last remark, but if it were so it

  was lost on Mr Pilling His big, stupid face ~. At that moment I had no

  eyes for my patient. All my attention was on the creased into a

  self-satisfied smirk.

  : ~corgi, plump and bright-eyed, nibbling at the big white dog's hind

  limbs wit' "Ah'll tell ye there's not a lot ah don't know about 'em.

  I've been among 'em all his old bounce and vigour. all me life and

  I've studied t'job, too." He slurped down more beer.

  "I've got a , i "Just look at that!" I murmured.

  "It's like turning the clock back." houseful o' books and read 'em

  all. Ah ken every thin' about them diseases and :, Jack Sanders

  laughed.

  "Yes, isn't it. They're tremendous friends just like. the

  remedies."

  ' before. "Another of the men in the bar spoke.

  "Have ye never been beat wi' a dog job, "Come here, Skipper." I

  grabbed the little corgi and looked him over. Wha Seth?"

  ~, I had finished I held him for a moment as he tried to wriggle his

  way back t' There was a pause.

  "Well ah'm not goin' to say I never 'ave," he said judicially.

  ~: his friend.

  "Do you know, I honestly think he'll go on for years yet." "It's very

  rare I'm beat, but if I am I don't go to Herriot." He shook his

  head.

  ~ ~"Really?" Jack Sanders looked at me with a mischievous light in his

  eyes.

  "But "Nay, nay, ah slip through to Braw ton and consult wi' Dennaby

  Broome. He's .4 I seem to remember you saying quite a long time ago

  that his days were over.. a big friend o' mine."

  ~; ! - he was finished. "In the quiet of the snug I sipped at my

  glass. Dennaby Broome was one of I held up a hand.

  "I know, I know. But sometimes it's lovely to be wrong.".

  the many 'quacks' who flourished in those days. He had started in the

  building trade as a plasterer to be exact and had gravitated

  mysteriously and without : l ~formal training into the field of

  veterinary science where he now made a .. i comfortable living.

  ~i I had nothing against him for that we all have to live. In any case

  he rarely bothered me because Braw ton was mainly outside our practice

  orbit, but my , colleagues around there used some unkind words about

  him. I had a private I conviction that a lot of his success was due to

  his resounding name. To me, the -~ chapter Fzve~ I very words

  "Dennaby Broome' were profoundly imposing.

  ,/ | "Aye, that's what ah co," Seth continued.

  "Dennaby and me's big friends and : i' I we oft consult about dogs.

  Matter of fact ah took me own dog to 'im once he "That young Herriot's

  a bloody thick-'ead." ~ I looks well, eh?"

  It wasn't the sort of statement to raise one's morale and for a moment

  I stood on tiptoe and peered into the bar. I could just see Seth's

  keeshound ~- - good ale turned to vinegar in my mouth. I was having a

  quiet pint all alone ;4 I Sit ting at his feet. A handsome creature

  with a luxuriant glossy coat. The big i the 'snug' of the Crown and

  Anchor on my way home from an evening a9. I man leaned over and patted

  the fox-like head.

  "He's a vallible animal is that.

  . case, and the words came clearly through the hatch from the public

  bar. ~I Ah couldn~t trust 'im to a feller like Herriot."

  I suppose it was the fact that I had come to the conclusion that my fl

  ~I "What's the matter wi' Herriot, any road?" somebody asked.

  ~ i ~instructor, FO Wood ham, considered me to be a person of low

  intelligence t ~ Well, ah'll tell tha." Seth tapped his head.

  "He hasn't got ower much up 'ere."

  . brought the incident back to my mind. ,~ I didn't want to hear any

  more. I put down my glass and stole out into the ~I shifted my

  position slightly so that I could see into the brightly lit room ~

  night 724 Vet in a ~,p n After that experience I took more notice of

  Seth Pilling. He was often to be seen strolling round the town

  because, despite his vast store of knowledge OR many subjects, he was

  frequently out of work. He wasn't an expert only on dogs - he

  pontificated in the Crown and Anchor on politics, gardening, cage

  birdS`, agriculture, the state of the economy, cricket, fishing and

  many other matters.

  There were few topics which his wide intellect did not effortlessly

  embrace, so that it was surprising that employers seemed to dispense

  with his services after a very brief period. ~ He usually took his dog

  with him on his strolls, and the attractive animal began to appear to

  me as a symbol of my shortcomings. Instinctively I kept oUt: of his

  way but one morning I came right up against him. -i It was at the

  little shelter in the market place and a group of people were waiting

  for the Braw ton bus. Among them was Seth Pilling and the keeshound'

  and as I passed within a few feet of them on my way to the post office

  I stopped involuntarily and stared. The dog was almost

  unrecognisable.

  The dense, off-stan ding ash-grey coat I knew so well had become sparse

  and lustre less. The thick ruff, so characteristic of the breed, had

  shrunk to nothing "You're loo kin' at me dog?" Mr Pilling tightened

  the lead and pulled the little animal towards him protectively as

  though he feared I might put my contaminaating hand on him.

  "Yes ... I'm sorry, but I couldn't help noticing. He has a skin

  condition The big man looked down his nose at me.

  "Aye, 'e has, a bit. I'm just takin' him through to Braw ton to see

  Dennaby Broome."

  ' I see."

  "Yes, ah thought ah'd better take 'im to somebody as knows sum mat

  about dogs." He smirked as he looked around at the people in the

  shelter who were.

  listening with interest.

  "He's a vallible dog is that."

  "I'm sure he is," I said.

  He raised his voice further. Mind you, ah've been givin' him some of

  me own treatment." He didn't have to tell me. There was a strong

  smell of tar, and the dog's hair was streaked with some oily

  substance.

  "But it's maybe better to malt
.

  sure. We're lucky to 'ave a man like Dennaby Broome to turn to." .

  "Quite."

  He looked around his audience appreciatively.

  "Especially with a vallible dog.

  like this. You can't 'ave any Tom Dick or Harry muck in' around with

  'im." `, "Well," I said.

  "I hope you get him put right."

  "Oh, ah will." The big man was enjoying the interlude, and he

  laughed.

  "Don, you worry about that." :: This little session did not enliven my

  day, but it gave me more reason t.

  watch out for Mr Pilling. For the next two weeks I observed his

  movements with the deepest interest because his dog was losing its hair

  at an alarming rate Not only that, but the animal's whole demeanour had

  changed and instead d tripping along in his old sprightly way he

  dragged one foot after another se!

  though he were on the point of death. ~ Towards the end of the period

  I was horrified to see the big man ~with|3 something like a shorn ewe

  on the end of the lead. It was all that was left of the

  beautiful keeshound, but as I started to walk towards him his master

  spotted ~ and hurried off in the opposite direction, dragging the

  unfortunate animal behi' him.

  I did, however, succeed in having a look at the dog a few days

  afterwards. 1:' was in the waiting room at Skeldale House, and this

  time he was accompanied by his mistress instead of his master. ~. -

  .

  "Yes."

  Mrs Pilling was sit ting very upright. and when I asked her to come

  through.

  ; ,..

  ,~ to the consulting room she jumped to her feet, marched past me and

  stumped quickly along the passage in front of me.

  She was quite small, but broad tripped and stocky, and she al ways

  walked rapidly, her head nodding forward aggressively at each step, her

  jaw thrust out.

  She never smiled.

  I had heard it said that Seth Pilling was a big talker outside, but

  under his own roof he was scared to death of his little wife. And as

  the tight-mouthed fiery-eyed face turned to me I could believe it.

  She bent, pushed powerful arms under the keeshound and hoisted him on

  to the table.

  "Just look at me good dog, Mr Herriot!" she rapped out.

  I looked.

  "Good heavens!" I gasped.

  The little animal was almost completely bald. His skin was dry, scaly

  and wrinkled, and his head hung down as though he were under

  sedation.

  "Aye, you're surprised, aren't you?" she barked.

  "And no wonder. He's in a terrible state, isn't he?"

  "I'm afraid so. I wouldn't have known him."

  "No, nobody would. Ah think the world 'o this dog and just look at

  'im!" She paused and snorted a few times.

  "And I know who's responsible, don't you?"

  "Well . . ."

  "Oh, you do. It's that husband o' mine." She paused and glared at me,

  breathing rapidly.

  "What d'you think of my husband, Mr Herriot?"

  "I really don't know him very well. I . . ."

  "Well ah know 'im and he's a gawp. He's a great gawp. Knows every

  thing and knows nowt. He's played around wi' me good dog till he's

  ruined 'im."

  I didn't say anything. I was studying the keeshound. It was the first

  time I had been able to observe him closely and I was cert ain I knew

  the cause of his trouble.

  Mrs Pilling stuck her jaw out further and continued.

  "First me husband said it was eczema. Is it?"

  "No."

  "Then 'e said it was mange. Is it?"

  "No."

  "D'you know what it is?"

 

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